Page 4 of The Magic We Made

Thursday, September 19

Connecticut Girl Still Missing

By WHD Staff

West Harbor—Emma Bridle, 18, of Greenwich, CT, was last seen by her family on the morning of May 23, when she lefthome for what she said was an overnight sleepover with a friend.

She has not been heard from since. Her parents insist it is unlike their daughter not to text or call.

“Emma’s always been very responsible,” says her mother, Stephanie Bridle, 43. “She definitely hasn’t run away.”

Though her vehicle was found in the parking lot of West Harbor Beach back in June, police say the discovery has led to no clues about Emma’s current whereabouts—but also insist there are no signs of foul play.

“Everything points to Ms. Bridle being missing voluntarily,” said newly appointed Deputy Police Chief Jacqueline Boyle. “As an adult, she has that legal right.”

But Emma has already missed fall orientation at Fordham, where she was expected to begin her freshman year at the beginning of September. “She was so excited to be going to college in the fall,” says her mother. “She wouldn’t have missed orientation for the world. Something is seriously wrong.”

Emma is not the first young woman to have been reported missing in the West Harbor area this year. Meg Boucher, 19, of Cranbury, NJ, and Bella Krieger, 18, of Rye, NY, have gone missing from the area as well. In total, ten young women who have since been reported missing by their families were last seen in the village of West Harbor. Some don’t believe the disappearances are a coincidence.

“It’s because of the witches,” says Mark Giovanni, owner of Mama Giovanni’s Italian Trattoria. “Ever since that thing last year at the courthouse, you can’t swing a dead cat around here without hitting a wannabe witch.”

Giovanni is referring to West Harbor’s tricentennial celebration at the courthouse square last fall, when, according to police reports, a sudden, intense thunderstorm caused a large party tent to collapse. While only minor injuries were reported, cell phone footage from the incident went viral, leading to the hashtag#WitchesOfWestHarbor. This has led to an influx of self-identified witches and “witch tourism” to the village, especially after lawmakers formally exonerated residents of Colonial Connecticut who’d been convicted of witchcraft in the early 1600s.

Over one million people descended on Salem, MA—20 times the city’s population—last autumn to visit historically significant “witch” sights, generating almost $140,000,000 in local spending. West Harbor mayor Janet Dunleavy believes her village might see the same or even higher numbers this year.

When asked if there was a connection between the area’s increase in witch tourism and the missing girls, however, the mayor had no comment.

Meanwhile, the Bridle family’s efforts to find their missing daughter continue, even as the West Harbor Police declare the case closed.

Honestly? I’m not surprised my brother Mark has managed to wheedle his way into the local paper, plugging our family restaurant in the process. Mark is good at this kind of thing. Except for the trattoria’s books, which I still handle, he’s been not-so-secretly running the place behind Mom’s back for years.

Whatdoessurprise me is how the Bridles are managing to keepthe story of their missing daughter in the news when she’s been gone for so long. Then again, missing girls—especially white girls—are total clickbait. They sell advertising space.

Still, Jackie is right (it’s so crazy that one of my best friends from high school is now deputy chief of police, especially considering how many times she got suspended for cutting class): Emma is probably fine. Girls—and boys—go missing every day, especially in the summertime. The vast majority of them return home safely. The teenage years are tempestuous ones—even more so now with the Internet thrown into the already heady mix of hormones and social pressures. Wherever Emma and those other girls are, they’ll be home soon, probably with a long (and not entirely truthful) story about where they’ve been.

I don’t blame the Bridles for catastrophizing, though. We live in uncertain times... more uncertain for some of us than others, however. Like my brother Mark, for instance.

Remember when you told the new Summer Person next door to me that I’m a parapsychologist?I text him.Well, you’re going to need one. Because the next time I see you, you’re dead.

Satisfied that this message hits exactly the right note, I hit send. Then, with twenty minutes to spare until my next patient, I call Rochelle at the rental agency.

Unfortunately, she throws cold water all over my dreams of seeing Mrs. Baumgarten get her deposit back, and Ash Merit consequently selling his place in a petty man-tantrum.

“You know that our rental agreement states that neither Harbor Hideaways nor the owner is responsible for lost property, right, Frankie?”

“Not even if it was lost through the owner’s negligence?”

“How hasAshbeen negligent?”

“Does Harbor Hideaways change the code on the lockbox after each tenant checks out?”

“Yes.”

Rochelle sounds tired, and no wonder. This is what she does all day, every day, right up until the first winter frost in October. I know because we’ve been friends since high school. I was a bridesmaid at her wedding as well as a comforting shoulder for her to cry on during her divorce. Her ex is even more of a loser than mine. She’s still paying off all the gambling debts he accrued on their joint credit cards.

It’s because of people like Rochelle—not to mention my own family—that I quit bookkeeping and got licensed to become a financial therapist in the first place (not that Rochelle is a patient. I would never formally treat a friend). Most of the small business owners I know around here are working so hard, they don’t have time to think about saving for emergencies or retirement. It’s a real problem—but one to which I can relate, thanks to my own experience.

Except that according to Rochelle,I’mthe one with the problem right now.